


Turning Pages

by Neon_Monkeys



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Canon Universe, Deviates From Canon, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Future Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Panic Attacks, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Experience, Sexual Inexperience, Slash, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Spoilers, Time Travel Fix-It, Vomiting, alternative universe, canonverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-25 09:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neon_Monkeys/pseuds/Neon_Monkeys
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is given an inexplicable gift to change the course of his and everyone else's life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! No flames!
> 
> Check my Tumblr Cannibalizingkanekipotter for updates!!!

Yuuri had been contemplating his retirement for a while now. He knew it would come as no surprise to his coach, Victor and his fellow skaters. Yuuri was 29 now, a bit late in the game for a figure skater. Yuuri knew he was lucky to have made it so far as a skater. It was a dangerous sport, he knew that. One miss step, one bad fall and he could be off the ice for good. Maybe it would be a good idea to end on a high note. At the height of his career and to leave Yuri to carry on their little figure skating family. _ At the end of this Grand Prix I will retire.  _

 

Victor’s hand was warm on his shoulder. Even at 33 Victor was a beauty to behold. His silver hair still as thick as the day he met him, no matter how much Victor disagrees. His heart-shaped smile glistening with genuine happiness. 

 

Yuuri span around on the ice and cupped Victor’s face, from behind the boards, with his hand, “You’ll only watch me, right? Vitya?” 

 

Victor moved his weight forward onto the board bowing his head forward to touch Yuuri’s, “Always, my pork cutlet bowl.” Victor’s tongue wrapped around the endearment with familiarity. Yuuri lightly exhaled into Victor’s mouth.  _ Not here. _

 

Yuuri slinked backwards to his starting position on the ice. This was his last season. He would show Victor his love. Victor never really became someone you could call a good coach. A brilliant husband and eternal best friend and supporter, most definitely.  _ Silly Victor. _ Getting Yuuri riled up before such an emotionally driven skate was never going to be a good idea. 

 

_ Quadruple Loop _

 

Yuuri had moved to St. Petersburg with Victor within a year of winning silver in the Grand Prix Final 2016. Their apartment oozed the flavourful smell of katsudon and pirozhki.  _ Victor probably left dishes in the sink again. Idiot!  _ The smell of freshly made tea on his bed side made by Victor, the early riser. The sleepy warmth of Victor’s clothes on Yuuri’s body, Makkachin lying dowsily in the crook of his knees, Victor’s front against his front. Victor’s hair in his face smelling of his honey shampoo and something undeniably  _ Victor. _

 

_ Triple Axel, Quadruple Toe Loop _

 

The mirror in their shared bedroom served Yuuri as a constant reminder of what Victor thought of him. The press of Victor’s lips against each and every stretch mark on Yuuri’s ever changing body. The slide of Victor’s tongue _ -Oh God.  _ Victor kneeling on the hardwood floor as he worships Yuuri’s body. The coolness of Victor’s sated body pressed against Yuuri’s back could be seen in the now dirtied mirror.

 

_ Quadruple Salchow _

 

The burning fizz of one to many glasses of something Yuuri doesn’t quite remember at this point glide down his throat. The swish of his hips press back against a cool spherical pole as Victor giggles and babbles something. The soft fluidity of lipstick as Yuuri writes Kanji across skin.  _ I should really count myself lucky that I’m too broke to get a tattoo.  _ Yuuri’s playful competitive stance against Yuri’s dwindling glare.

 

_ Quadruple Lutz, Double Toe Loop, Triple Axel _

 

Mari’s daughter Yukino is an inspiration for Yuuri and Victor. The pair are on the waitlist to adopt their own child but in the meantime they get to babysit Yukino when they are in Hasetsu. The three of them would join Makkachin on the beach and feel the sand between their toes, listen to the waves of the ocean. Yuri knows that his love for Victor will never dwindle. 

 

Yuuri’s skates come to a halt at the center of the ice finishing his routine. Opening his eyes in expectation to see Victor waiting for him in his usual place at the side of the ice, Yuuri is disappointed.  _ Celestino? What was he doing there?  _ Trying to come above his confusion as to where Victor might be, Yuuri smiles and waves to crowd making his way towards the Kiss and Cry. 

 

“That was fantastic Yuuri! You will be sure to place for sure!” Exclaims Celestino as Yuuri steps off the ice giving Yuuri a congratulatory hug.  _ Huh? _

 

“Celestino…” Yuuri begins with something less than a whisper. Clearing his throat he begins again. “Celestino?” This was odd. His voice wobbled,“Where’s Victor? Has something happened?”  _ Please say no. Oh God please. _

 

“What are you talking about Yuuri? He’s probably in the changing room or with his coach. He has yet to skate…” Celestino dismissed only to continue on enthusing how well Yuuri did during his free skate.  _ This isn’t right. Victor’s my coach.  _ Yuuri treds on behind Celestino to the Kiss and Cry.  

 

Once Yuuri has sat down on the bench Celestino passes Yuuri his old Black and blue lined bag. Inside are his shoes and water bottle amongst a few other necessities. His phone was in the front pouch.  _ Vicchan. In his old bag there is his old phone and old shoes. What?  _ Yuuri’s phone read: 

 

**_Tuesday, December 11_ **

 

That’s very wrong. Why would his phone say it’s Tuesday the 11th? There is no Tuesday the 11th of December in 2022. What a weird calibration error. Yuuri logs into his phone and taps into the date and time settings.  _ What!?!? _

 

“Yuuri Katsuki completes his skate with a score of 216.46 and a final score of 301.10! Katsuki is in First Place!” The commentator thrills through the speakers.

 

_ Yuuri Katsuki was in 2014. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I do not own Yuri!!! on Ice. I do not mean to offend anyone in the writing of this fanfiction. 
> 
> Warning: There is a panic attack and a brief description of vomiting in the first portion. If this is triggering for you there is a brief summary of what happened before the first horizontal line in the end notes.

Yuuri was in some sort of coma dream. He had decided that he had fallen on the ice and bashed his head causing his imagination to come up with some absurd scenario to help his brain cope with the trauma. It was the only thing that made sense. Yuuri flopped onto the too hard hotel bed, groaning as his nose crunches wrong into the white hotel pillow. Yuuri had already sorted through his suitcase earlier trying to find anything to explain the occurrence of his not-possible-time-travel. Upon finding nothing but now wrinkled clothes, skating gear, and toiletries Yuuri had given up and decided that a good night sleep would fix everything. In a found pair of pajama pants Yuuri migrates from above to below his tightly made bedding sheets reaching over to switch the light off.    
  
Yuuri gurgles in a dramatic annoyance as his phone goes off for the tenth time. It’s probably Mari or Phichit. His friends and family keep giving him congratulations on placing third after Victor Nikiforov and Chris Giacometti. It doesn’t matter though. Yuuri had won but he doesn’t remember actually skating. He doesn’t know how he got here. Yuuri’s tears had started to make a patchwork of his pillow. He felt slobbery and ridiculous. This can’t be real. Why was he even questioning this? Just shut your eyes and it will all be back to normal in the morning.    
  
His breathing picked up to a constantly increasing tempo. Not real. It’s not. Time travel isn’t real. A sea of tears mounted and obstructed Yuuri’s vision. He just wanted to be at home in bed with Victor and Makka- Vicchan was dead. His poor little puppy had just died here. Of all the times to appear and it couldn’t have been a few days earlier. Yuuri’s body felt like it was screaming. His joints ached, his eyes burned and his throat was rubbed raw but he couldn’t stop. Vicchan was dead. Dead. Dead. Nope.    
  
“No,” Yuuri anguished sobbing.    
  
Victor was gone and Vicchan was gone. Gone. They are not- gone. Gone. They left him. No. No. No. He left them. What was g-   
  
Yuuri was shaking. His whole body felt like it was exploding, his lungs tightening, his knees flexing and unflexing. It’s all his fault. He left them. Left- Gone- Nonononono. He needs- He n- Bre-    
  
“S-s-sh-shhah” His voice was grinding and skipping. “Stahahahahpp”    
  
He was hiccuping. W-why? He’s so- Pathetic. No. No. St-   
  
“Hmmmm.” Why won’t he just- “Wha… One” That’s i- Come on- Jus- Sleep.    
  
Yuuri’s throat clicked and bulged as acid rose and fell on his sheets. He was so gross. So gross.    
  
Yuuri rolled over and shut his eyes. He was sticky tired and burning. All he wanted was sleep in his own bed, not this one.

 

* * *

 

When Yuuri woke the next morning it was to Celestino banging on his door. He had slept late which was unsurprising really. Yuuri dragged himself from the bed. His body was wet and his hair slick. Pulling his numb feet to the door he opened it a crack.    
  
“I’m awake,” His voice was quiet and croaking.    
  
“Ahh, Yuuri. Did you want to meet for breakfast? I mean brunch by now?” Celestino was familiar with this situation it had happened before. Although not this bad.    
  
Yuuri hadn’t planned on eating. He didn’t want a repeat of the night before but he couldn’t say no. “Sure Celestino. Give me a half hour.” He replied making sure to stay hidden away behind the door.    
  
“Of course Yuuri. See you at the Cafe? I’ll send you the details?”   
  
Go away. “Yeah, sure.” His voice is still rough as he dismissed Celestino and closed the door.    
  
In the bathroom mirror, Yuuri stood slouched against the sink. His eyes rimmed red, lips as pale as his skin. Vomit crusted his hair and smeared against his collar bone. Damn. I look like shit but young. Very young. His face lacked the lines of natural aging. His knees felt good. His left knee had started to ache and twinge after a bad fall when he was 28 during his second last season in 2021. Stepping into the shower he pulled the curtain shut and turned the knob to the middle setting. The water rushed coating Yuuri’s body from dirtied hair down to his battered feet.    
  
Yuuri hadn’t returned home. He was still here during one of the hardest times of his life but best. He gets to meet Victor tonight and maybe, just maybe this time he will remember.    
  


* * *

  
  
Yuuri had always felt better after crying. Exhausted though. Yuuri thought as he sat down in the chair opposite Celestino in the little Cafe they had found down the road from the hotel. If he was stuck here, in this dream he might as well enjoy it. He could do anything he wanted. It’s his dream after all.    
  
“Hey Coach,” Yuuri’s voice had cleared now. He took look at the menu in front of him.  Should have something safe. I don’t want to throw up again. Toast?   
  
“Hello, Yuuri! Did you have a good sleep?” Came Celestino’s second greeting of the day. Celestino had always aged well. There were fewer greys and wrinkles but between 45 and 53 he hadn’t aged much externally to what Yuuri could see.   
  
“Yeah. I did.” He didn’t know how to answer any differently. Celestino would know he was faking it anyway.    
  
They ordered and as they spoke Yuuri avoided all mention of the following season. This, however, turned out to be difficult when speaking to his coach.   
  
“Yuuri any plans for your next theme? Or Programs?” Celestino tacked the end on as an afterthought. To ask Yuuri was odd, however. Celestino was always the one to choose and choreograph for Yuuri.    
  
“Yes, actually I have already chosen the music I can show you when we get back to Detroit.” Yuuri smiled to himself. Why all the nerves? I know what I am doing. Victor’s a horrible organizer. I normally pick up some slack. It’s fine. Everything is fine.   
  
“Yes, I’m sure we can look over it.” And there it is. Celestino only wants what is best for Yuuri. He doesn’t take many risks with any of his skaters.   
  


* * *

  
  
In the end, Yuuri could not avoid the outside world forever. His phone rung out in the silence of his hotel room disrupting his packing. He sits on the side of the bed as he answers the phone waiting for the inevitable. Better sooner than later.   
  
“Yuuri” His mother had always been excitable. This had never declined as she aged. However, his mother never liked to be ignored.   
  
“Mom.” He replied in Japanese.   
  
“Katsuki Yuuri! Don’t you dare not answer your father or me again! We were worried sick! You did fantastic yesterday dear. Don’t you leave us hanging again!”   
  
“I won’t Mom I promise. I never meant to worry anyone.” He was never going to hear the end of this.    
  
“Anyways! You did fantastically! Third Place! We are all so proud. There was a large crowd of people over yesterday to watch you skate.”   
  
“Mom!” He had forgotten about that. He was suddenly very happy that he placed third instead of his former sixth. 

 

* * *

  
  
The banquet wasn’t something his coach had to drag him down to this time around. He wanted to go. He met Victor for the first time here, not that he remembers anyway. Yuuri is going to stay sober this time around. Although Victor did say it was one of the most precious memories he has so he might as well.    
  
Upon entering the banquet hall alongside a cheerful Celestino Yuuri grabs a glass of champagne off of a waiter’s tray and downs it only to get his hands on another.    
  
“Yuuri. What are y-” Celestino starts only to be interrupted by Yuuri.    
  
“Liquid courage, Celestino. Liquid courage.” Yuuri starts to make his way across the room towards the tall platinum blond. Only prior to arriving does he switch out his drained glass for another full glass of champagne. I know what Victor likes this time around.   
  
Victor stands facing away to two gentlemen in suits. They are either press or potential sponsors but Yuuri favors the latter from their lack of name tags around their necks. Victor’s hair is thick, beautiful and glistening. His shoulders confidant and rehearsed. With familiar precision, Yuuri snakes his arms around Victor’s waist from the side only to change positions and drape himself across Victor’s chest so he doesn’t fall over. Pushing his nose into the space of his jaw bone beneath his chin Yuuri exclaims, “Vicctoorr! Danc-”   
  
“What do you think your doing, Pig?” Yuri Plisetsky’s angry blond face interrupts them.   
  
Yuuri peeled himself off Victor to see his flabbergasted expression. Turning around and leaning into Yuri’s face, “Dance battle,” Yuuri looks him dead in the eye. It’s not a question and they both know it.

 

* * *

  
  
Yuuri arms make their way into Victor’s hair as they begin dancing during one of his breaks from the pole. It’s soft and if he can just get his hand…   
  
“Yuuri what are you doing?” Victor had a blushed pink high on his cheekbones, his hands sloppily trying to grab onto him.   
  
“Whaaa? Noffin.” Pretty, pretty hair.    
  
Victor leans his head down to touch Yuuri’s and Yuuri nuzzles his nose up to meet him. “S’okay Yuuri. You don’t have to hide from me. Tell me,” Victor softly probes his breath hitting Yuuri’s face hot.    
  
“Pretty,” Yuuri fists Victor’s hair. Victor’s eyes go wide as he huffs in astonishment. Yuuri’s eyes hold an innocence that does not belong to him. “I wanna do someit.”   
  
Victor laughs his heart-like smile bright and eyes shining, “And what would that be, Солнышко?”   
  
Yuuri looks up and into Victor with one finger held up and legs it off towards the other end of the banquet hall to reach into someone’s front breast pocket. This is a brilliant idea. Yup. Yuuri rushes back with a small black pen and pulls aside Victor’s unbuttoned shirt. He glides the pen between Victor’s rib bones in swirls and numbers in a fit of giggles all shyness is gone. With a small kiss to Victor’s side, Yuuri straightens up to look into Victor’s awe-filled face.    
  
“For later, Vitya.”   
  
Victor chokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary before first line break: Yuuri is in his hotel room and is convinced that everything that is happening is just a coma dream. He looks through all his things with the intention of finding anything that could suggest how or why he was thrown back in time. He slowly becomes overwhelmed and has a panic attack. During his panic attack he convinces himself that it is somehow his fault and that he left Victor and Makkachin. When he is trying to calm down he vomits and is forced to breathe properly. Exhausted Yuuri goes to sleep.


End file.
